40 Weeks
by LolaBleu
Summary: When Tobias swings the bathroom door open he finds Tris slumped against the wall across from the toilet - head back, eyes closed, clearly miserable. She flings the pink plastic pregnancy test at him. "This is your fault," she mumbles. *The story of Tris' second pregnancy in the Patterns & Fairytales universe*
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Since I've got massive writers block with Appetence at the moment, I've been writing this instead. If you follow my Tumblr (BleuWrites - drop me an Ask if you're feeling chatty), some of this will be familiar to you, but most of it is new, and I hope you like it :) Truthfully, I could write in the Patterns universe forever, I love it so much, and there will be a real sequel to it at some point now that I've gotten over my Allegiant angst.

Anyway - and typically -, this got so long I'm posting it in two parts. The second half just needs some polishing and I plan on posting it either on Saturday or Sunday (depending on how crazy my birthday is). As always, reviews make my day :)

* * *

**Conception**

As far as Tobias can tell Devil's Night is an excuse to light shit on fire and get spectacularly drunk. Not that it isn't fun, because it is. He suspects everyone is a secret pyromaniac, and can only be glad that most people contain it until they're in a setting where it's socially acceptable to let that particular demon run free.

It is still mostly a Dauntless holiday and accordingly the park not far from the Pire has been turned into a hellish carnival of delights. There are bonfires and fireworks and some people have even constructed giant abstract sculptures of anything flammable that burn and collapse and smoulder, eliciting shrieks and shouts of delight from the assembled drunks. And there is no shortage of alcohol.

There's no shortage of people running around targeting others with paint ball guns either, which is probably the most wholesome activity going on tonight. Tobias suspects there are some people fucking in the bushes in the more remote areas of the park, but being neither a voyeur nor an exhibitionist he has no interest in that. He does have a vested interest in getting Tris home though. He's pleasantly drunk and they've got the apartment to themselves and for some reason or another they've never had sex on the kitchen counter.

He wants to change that.

It's late by the time they get back to the Pire and they're both loose-limbed and loose-lipped with alcohol when they do. The elevator is crowded, but Tris uses it as an opportunity to push Tobias against the back wall, her back to his front in all the right places. It's slow, silent torture and he wants nothing more than to snake his hand down the front of her pants and see if she's getting as wet as he's getting hard, but they're not alone so all he can do is grip on her hips and press into her backside so she knows exactly what she's doing to him.

Tobias practically bodychecks people out of his way and nearly throws Tris over his shoulder in his desperation to get them behind closed doors. And really, she's not helping because while he's fumbling with the key to open their door she's nibbling on his neck and whispering words that are making him think he's going to have to reevaluate his stance on exhibitionism if he can't get the door open_ this instant_.

When the door swings open he sighs with relief and tries to guide her inside, but she plants her feet and looks up at him with big blue eyes and wonders out loud if it's weird that she finds him trying to get her pregnant hot. Since she's being a roadblock he actually has to consider her question. And at first he does find it a little weird, but there's also a part of him that gets off on how possessive and claiming it is. But since he's pretty sure that part belongs to the lingering effects of his fucked up childhood he keeps his answer to, "I like the trying."

That seems to be answer enough for her because she grabs him by his collar and leads him inside with a smirk. He presses her up against the wall and kicks the door closed and kisses it off her face. They leave a breadcrumb trail of clothes between there and kitchen and when he loops an arm around her hips and hoists her onto the counter she quirks an eyebrow at him, a disbelieving, "really?" slipping past her lips. But then his fingers are between her legs, teasing her, and she forgets how to talk altogether.

She forgets how to breath when other parts of his anatomy find their way inside her and he pins both her hands with one of his to the cabinet behind her. The glasses and dishes and whatever the hell else they've got in there rattle in time with his thrusts and he and Tris are reduced to a panting, writhing mess. It's probably a good thing the counter is tiled, but he doesn't think he'll ever look at it again without thinking about this, about Tris wet and moaning and his.

Tris muffles her scream by biting his shoulder as she comes, an acquired habit that's pointless tonight since Benjamin is having a sleepover with Zoey at her house, but combined with the way she digs her heels into the back of his thighs and tightens around him, pulling him deeper, it's enough to get him there too.

Once they've caught their breath and he's released her hands and she's soothing away the ache her teeth inflicted with the soft warmth of her lips he can't help asking her if she thinks this was The Time.

"Could be," she says contemplatively. "When I got pregnant with Benjamin it was when we were drunk on your birthday and you bent me over the back of the couch, so."

* * *

**3 Weeks**

Benjamin is five. What's more, he knows he is because they actually celebrate his birthday. There are presents and cake and Tris and Tobias' apartment has been invaded by what feels like every kid in his kindergarten class, but as far as they are concerned it's a fair trade for their little boy growing up so differently than they did. They don't eschew their Abnegation roots completely, but they do make a point of celebrating birthday's and Christmas.

The parents hang around too, probably in hopes of indulging in a slice of Dauntless cake, but there's none to be had. Instead there's the same delicate concoction of almond cake and chocolate mousse Tris had at her baby shower.

Zeke takes a bite and rolls it around in his mouth as he sidles up to the breakfast bar. "I'm surprised you got this cake again," he comments, taking another bite.

"I wanted something different and it sounded good," Tris shrugs.

_"I'm sorry_," Zeke says sarcastically. "What I meant to say was, 'I'm surprised you can still get this cake considering Jason still hates you'."

"Yes, well, maybe he should think twice about trying to shove his tongue where it's not welcome. Or just keeping his mouth closed period, since Lisa, the pastry chef, can't stand him either."

"Do me a favour, Tris," Zeke says with a shit-eating grin. "When Zoey gets to the 'kissing boys' phase of life, teach her how to breaks a guy's nose the way you did Jason's."

She gives him a dirty look and contemplates mashing the rest of his slice of cake in his face, but settles for stealing his freshly opened beer off the counter and taking a swig.

Tris gags as soon as it hits her tongue, a rancid taste filling her mouth. She spins around quick and spits it out, dumping the rest down the drain and rinsing her mouth out with water for good measure. "It was spoiled," she explains when she turns to find not only Zeke and Shauna, but Tobias watching her curiously. "It must not have been bottled right or something." She throws the now empty bottle in the trash and doesn't give it another thought.

* * *

**6 Weeks**

"Where's your mom?" are the first words out of Tobias' mouth when he comes home to find Benjamin patiently drawing at the coffee table, seemingly alone.

"In the bathroom," Benjamin answers crisply. "She's not feeling well."

Tobias drops his bag and shucks his jacket and stalks through their apartment. When he swings the bathroom door open he finds Tris slumped against the wall across from the toilet - head back, eyes closed, clearly miserable. She's pale and shivering and her hair is plastered to her neck with sweat.

"Are you okay?" he asks, alarmed. The look she gives him clearly tells him that is a stupid question.

Her hand scrabbles around blindly and then she flings the pink plastic pregnancy test at Tobias. "This is your fault," she mumbles as it smacks into his chest and then drops to the floor with a clatter that makes her wince.

Tobias picks it up gingerly, the little plus sign clearly visible. And then he just stands there, staring at it. At least until Tris moans and lurches toward the toilet again and his overloaded brain kicks back to life. He holds her hair back and helps her rinse the sick out of her mouth when she finished and then leans her gently back against the wall again.

"What can I do?" he asks nervously. He was never around for this part with Benjamin, and truthfully it's kind of terrifying seeing Tris so sick.

"Just, um, take care of Ben. Take him downstairs for dinner," she says, her eyes slitting open to plead with him.

"No. I'll cook here, I don't want to leave you alone."

"The smells… when I'm like this, it will just make it worse," she groans.

"I'll call Christina, have her take -," he starts and then cuts off as soon as Tris starts shaking her head.

"He needs _you_, Tobias, even if he doesn't realize it. And you promised me you'd always be here. Right now, this is what it is, this is how you help: you take care of him when I'm too sick to."

"I don't like it," he grouses.

"I don't like puking my guts out, but we've all got our problems today, don't we?"

They go back-and-forth a little while longer; he grumbles and she pleads, but in the end she wins because she's the one who's pregnant and sick and there really isn't any argument Tobias can lodge that will trump that. So, he does what she asks - takes Benjamin to dinner, and lingers over it so she (hopefully) has time to let the nausea pass.

When they get home she's curled up in bed, asleep, and the bathroom smells like her soap instead of the bitter, acidy scent of bile like it did when he left. He and Benjamin tread lightly and speak quietly, and Tobias gets him in bed without waking Tris, though Ben clearly isn't happy that his mother isn't there to tuck him in too.

Tris stirs awake when Tobias sits on the edge of the bed and brushes her shower-dampened hair out of her face. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired… Thirsty," she adds as she starts to sit up. Tobias presses her back down.

"What do you want? Water? Tea?" he offers because this he can do.

"Tea, I think."

He brings back a cup of peppermint and a cup of ginger, unsure which is best for her sensitive stomach. She takes the peppermint and he adds enough honey to the ginger to make it palatable.

"So, you're really pregnant," he says wonderingly, more to himself than her.

"I still have to go to the infirmary so we'll know without a doubt," she says off-hand.

"Yeah, because a positive pregnancy test and throwing up everything you've ever eaten isn't confirmation enough," he scoffs.

She playfully nudges him with her leg. "Are you happy?" she asks once they've finished and they're situating themselves in bed.

"I am," he says after a moment's deliberation.

"Me too."

He falls asleep that night with his hand over her stomach, a father cradling his child for the first time.

* * *

**12 Weeks**

"The most dramatic change in your baby this week are her reflexes. If you prod your abdomen your baby will squirm in response, though you won't feel it. She is just over two inches long - about the size of a lime - and weighs half an ounce," Tobias reads to Ben.

"So if I poke Mom in the belly the baby will move?" Benjamin asks.

"Ben?" He looks up at his father, his eyes wide and excited. "No."

"B-but I won't poke her hard," he pleads.

"_No_," Tobias says firmly.

"'kay," he huffs, dejected.

Tobias starts laying out the foodstuffs the books liken the size of the fetus to so Benjamin can see how much it's growing. Everything from a poppy seed at four weeks, to kidney bean at eight weeks, to lime for this week, the twelfth week.

"See, she's getting a lot bigger now," he says enthusiastically, hoping some of it will rub off on Benjamin.

"The baby's a girl?" he asks, poking at the grape that represents the ninth week instead of his mother's stomach.

"Oh, I don't know. The book just says 'she', but it could be a boy. What do you think it is?" he asks as he starts to put everything away.

The first person they told after they found out she was pregnant again was Benjamin, but it hasn't been easy because he's still five and can't quite wrap his brain around everything they're telling him. It doesn't help either that Tris isn't showing, which is why Tobias does this on a weekly basis, but it_ really_ doesn't help that Tris is still so sick. Ben might not understand the nuaces of pregnancy, but he understands enough to know that there is this thing inside his mother that is making her sick and tired and prone to tears and just generally not much fun to be around. And he resents it. A lot.

"I don't know," he mumbles, eyes cutting over to the couch where Tris is asleep, her face buried in the cushions and a pillow over her head to block out any light since that would just make her head hurt more.

He picks up his son, cradling Ben against him preciously. Benjamin sighs and buries his face in Tobias' neck. "Don't want a baby brother _or_ sister," he sniffles. "I just want Mom back."

"I know, Ben. She will feel better soon though."

"How much longer?"

"A couple of weeks, maybe."

"And then she'll have the baby and stop being sick?"

"No, she won't have the baby for a long time, but she will feel better." Tobias hopes to God it's the truth because he doesn't know how to fix this and more and more it feels selfish, like he's trading his son's happiness for his own and Tris'.

"What can I do to make you feel better?" he asks a little desperately. He just needs something he can fix. Ben shakes his head and presses closer. "What about swimming? Or is that something you only do with Mom?"

"You don't swim," Benjamin points out. It's true, Tobias doesn't swim, but he'll let his son drown him if that makes him feel better.

"You can teach me," Tobias offers.

"Really?" Ben asks, disbelieving, but a little excited again too.

"Sure."

"Right now?"

"If you want." That's all Tobias has to say before Benjamin is squirming his way back down and darting into his room to change.

Luckily the swimming pool off the gym is empty, so at least Tobias won't embarrass himself in front of witnesses - if Zeke could see him now he'd never live it down - and he spends an hour and half being bossed around by his pint-sized son. He doesn't master anything more difficult than floating, but Ben swims around like a fish and by the time they go home he's happy again. That was really all Tobias wanted to begin with.

Tris is still asleep on the couch so Tobias picks her up bridal-style and puts her in bed with Benjamin's help. He's sure she's so out of it she won't even remember them tucking her in and kissing her goodnight in the morning.

After they both wash up and change Ben makes him curl up in bed with him to read. It's a narrow fit on the twin bed, but Tobias isn't going to complain. They read fairy tales, simplified ones that Ben is starting to be able to read all on his own.

"I think a sister could be okay," Ben says sleepily after they finish the last one. "Like Zoey. She can be fun."

"I think so too," Tobias says, and for the first time he tells someone else about his dream of a little girl, the one that he had when Tris was pregnant before, though he leaves that part out because he loves his son and wouldn't trade him for anything. And once he starts talking, more things take shape besides how she would look like Tris, things like her following her Ben around like he hung the moon and stars, and how Ben would dote on her and look out for her. "Let's keep this a secret for now though, okay?"

Benjamin loops his pinkie finger around his father's in promise.

* * *

**16 Weeks**

As soon as Doctor Gonzales walks into the exam room she can tell the difference between Tris' three-months check up and four-months is going to be drastic. The last time they met not only was there a resentful five year old in attendance, but Tris looked like death warmed up. This time though it's just her and Tobias, and they look like a pair of new lovers what with the way they spring apart, flush cheeked and guilty eyes.

"I take it your morning sickness has eased up?" she says by way of greeting.

"Yes."

This pregnancy has been tougher, physically anyway. More morning sickness, more exhaustion, and headaches that feel like they were splitting her head open most days. The doctor said it was all normal and would ease up as she neared her second trimester. Tris had doubted her. And so had Benjamin, which was why they brought him to her last appointment, hoping that hearing it from a doctor's mouth would hold more weight than it had from either of theirs.

He sat stonily on his father's lap as Dr. Gonzales explained it to him, only to be met with a petulant, "well the baby's sick, and it's making my Mommy sick, so why don't you just make the baby better?" like it was the most obvious thing in the world. The doctor had laughed lightly, given him a lollipop, and commiserated about hard it must be to have a mom too tired to play with him. Mollified, he had related the story of how Mommy fell asleep on the couch the night before and Daddy carried her to bed and then they both tucked her in and kissed her goodnight.

And then because her _stupid pregnancy hormones_ were making her overly emotional, Tris started crying.

All in all it was an eventful visit.

This one goes a lot better. And a lot quicker. They run through all the usual questions, the doctor prods at Tris a little, then listen to the baby's heartbeat, and then they're out the door. "Hungry? It's cheeseburger day in the dining hall," Tobias says as they walk out, trying to entice Tris. "I know it's not beef stew, but-," he cuts off abruptly when he sees the delicate shade of green her face turns at the prospect.

"I'd rather eat at home, if that's okay," she demures.

"Okay," Tobias says lightly, pulling Tris closer to press a kiss to her temple as they bend their steps towards their apartment.

Morning sickness hasn't really been an issue for Tris the last few weeks, but just the mention of certain foods is enough to turn her stomach. It should probably annoy Tobias, having to constantly cater to her whims, but it's something he can do, a way for him to take care of Tris and his unborn child. So instead of resenting it, he relishes it because while Tris is doing the heavy lifting in this pregnancy, his support is vital too, even if it seems trivial to an outsider.

But once they gain the privacy of the elevator they pick up where they left off in the doctor's office. Their kisses are shy at first, each feeling the other out, but soon enough they turn deeper, hungrier, and Tobias' hands slip under the hem of Tris' shirt to grasp her hips much like he did on Devil's Night.

When the doors slide open on their floor Tris leads him out by his belt. Tobias hates to think what would happen if anyone were to try and stop her, determined as she is. And truly, their lovemaking has never been quite as good as it has been the last few weeks; rarely so consistently passionate and frequent. And Tobias can't deny that this, right along with take care of Tris, makes him feel closer, more involved; more needed and loved.

He kicks the door closed and saves them the trouble of stumbling through the apartment by sweeping Tris up into his arms and carrying her to the bedroom, lunch long forgotten. They're got a few hours before they have to collect Benjamin from school and Tobias intends to make good use of it.

Tris makes a giddy little noise when Tobias drops her on their bed, her smile only stretching wider as he covers her, lips worrying her neck in just the way she likes while his fingers fuss at her shirt. She's still the best dressed pregnant woman in Dauntless thanks to Christina, but Tobias has no problem getting her naked and keeping her that way. Her body is softening into curves again; a landscape of hills and vales that he thoroughly enjoys exploring with his hands and mouth.

"Tobias," Tris whiles when his mouth attaches to the sensitive underside of her breast, but all he does is grin wolfishly up at her. He can't suck bruises into her flesh like he used to, but the wet warmth of the flat of his tongue and the gentle scrape of his teeth is enough to make her writhe, so he stays there for a while, lavishing her breasts with attention and coaxing the pinks tips of them into tight little buds.

When he finally kisses his way down her body she's flushed and frustrated, but he keeps moving inexorably down until he's between her legs. From there she's all shadows and light in the weak winter sun filtering through the window, and though the diminutive bump nestled between her hips obstructs his view a little, when he spreads her open with his tongue he can't help thinking it's his favourite view in the world. There's just something about her chest heaves and her skin beads with sweat and the way she's his, _so completely his_, as he licks at her that nearly has him coming with her.

Tris comes quick, toes curling into the small of Tobias' back as her body arches off the bed. He keeps his mouth on her, riding it out until she's sensitive to the point of pain and twists out from under him. Tobias slinks up the bed, but she's quicker, pinning him on his back and straddling him; ravenous again. Before he can protest the position she's sinking down, her body welcoming him. The moan she makes once he's fully inside her is one of pure, relief, like her whole body is exhaling at their joining.

It's not that Tobias doesn't like this position - he loves it, actually -, but it's not what he wants right now. He swings up, peeling her hands away from where they're braced on his knees and knotting his fingers through hers before effectively pinning them against the small of her back when he wraps his arms around her.

The heat and friction between their bodies feels incredible, And everything about this feeds the need they have for each other, from the sweat-slick spot where her thighs bookend his hips, to the way her chest brushes against his, to how her hair tickles his knuckles when she tips her head back and arches into his mouth when he laves at her breasts.

And he loves her like this, loves them like this because no matter how reserved and Stiff the facade he presents to the outside world is, she's always been able to unravel him, to dress him down and take away all that careful control he has. She makes him weak in the best and worst ways and he loves her for it. And he tells her so, over and over, in the snap of his hip and the brush of his lips.

Tobias loosens one of his hands from her and slides it up her back, though her hair which the pregnancy has turned lush and silky to cup the back of her neck. "Tell me," he pants wetly against her skin because he wants to hear it.

"I love you," she says weakly, faced screwing up in blissful agony.

"I love you too. Always," he vows, just like he did that day in the field making her body clutch at him, at his words. Before she can do more than that they're both falling, enraptured by the pleasure burning through their veins like wildfire.

Tris slumps against him, spent, little aftershocks of pleasure making them both shiver. Tobias lays them down, pulling the blue quilt over them to chase away the encroaching chill. They don't so much dose as laze and Tobias isn't sure what he did to deserve this life, but he's never giving it up again.

* * *

**20 Weeks**

"Pfft… look at the way she's carrying," Shauna says, dismissing everyone else's opinion as if they don't matter. "She's totally having another boy."

Somehow the news that Tris and Tobias will be finding out the sex of the baby after lunch turned into everyone at their table laying odds on whether it will be a boy or a girl.

"She's right," Zeke interjects. "Tris looks just like she did when she was pregnant with Benji."

"I _hate_ that nickname," Tris grumbles at the same time Uriah laughs that, "_somebody's_ whipped."

"Not whipped, just smart," Zeke corrects.

"Thanks, Baby," Shauna says, rolling her eyes.

"I don't know," Christina says, staring at Tris' belly like she's got x-ray vision. "Tris was a lot sicker this time. Maybe that means she's having a girl."

"I'm sitting _right here_," Tris grouses.

"And?"

"And could you maybe not talk about me like I'm not?"

"You're just saying that because you want Tris to have a girl so you can play dress up with her," Uriah teases.

"I am not," Christina says petulantly, flinging an ice cube at him.

"Okay, I've got Zeke, Shauna, Harrison, and myself down for a boy," Michael chimes. "And Tori, Uriah, Lauren, and Christina, down for a girl. Anybody else wants in on this, tell me now."

"Are we going to get a piece of the winnings?" Tobias asks. "I think we should considering it's our baby."

"Of course not," Zeke says.

"You all suck," Tris grumps.

"Maybe, but at least you're not nervous about your doctors appointment now," Uriah points out.

"You know, all this depends on whether or not Tobias and I find out. And really, I think I can wait for the baby to be born," Tris says haughtily, rising to her feet. "How about you, Tobias?"

"We found out with Ben, it might be nice to be surprised this time around," he says with an even tone, rising to his feet as well.

Tris barely contains her laughter at the shouts of dismay that follow them out of the dining hall. "I think we should tell them the doctor couldn't tell whether it's a boy or girl. At least for a few weeks. Make them squirm."

"Works for me," he says, a shit-eating grin splitting his face. Twenty minutes later Dr. Gonzales tells them they're having a boy.

They wait another two weeks before telling anyone.

* * *

**23 Weeks**

Like he did during her first pregnancy Tobias keeps the video feed from the camera just outside Tris' office open as he works in the control room. He knows her habits, so he knows when she comes rushing out of her office an hour after she sits down at her desk that something isn't right. His panic only increases when she makes a beeline for the elevator, one hand on her stomach. "Look up," he growls at the screen, willing her to look into the camera so he can get some hint of what's going on. She doesn't.

His chair crashes noisily against the rack of servers behind his desk and he completely ignores whatever Zeke shouts after him. He jabs at the call button on the elevator violently, forcing it to stop on his floor. "Are you okay?" he exclaims when the door slide open and Tris is standing there. Smiling. She grabs his hands and drags him down the hall a few feet before fitting them on the swell on her stomach. "What the fuck?" he splutters, completely lost.

"Shh!," she chastises. "See if you can feel him."

It takes a minute, but then he does. There's something tiny and solid that presses against his fingers and drags down to his palm, but mostly he just feels the shift of fluid from the baby gamboling inside of her.

"He's really active. More than Ben was," he murmurs, thoroughly entranced.

"I told you," Tris says smugly. She's been feeling the baby moving for weeks, but Tobias was either never around when it happened or couldn't feel the light flutter and swish of him.

"You scared the hell out of me," Tobias says, coming back to himself.

Tris rolls her eyes. "Sorry, I should have known you'd be watching. I just wanted to surprise you, and I had to get here before Peanut stopped moving."

"Peanut?"

"It's what I'm calling him today," Tris shrugs. "Though now that I'm getting bigger I suppose 'pumpkin' might be more fitting."

"You're still tiny," Tobias chuckles as he kisses her nose. Truthfully, it looks like she shoved a volleyball up her shirt, and daily swims with Ben has kept the rest of her fit and toned. "I'm still mad at you though," he adds.

"You won't stay mad," Tris says, wrapping her arms around his neck and pushing up on her toes to kiss him soundly on the mouth.

"You already knocked her up, what more do you plan on doing?" Zeke shouts from the Control Room door.

Tobias flips him off and keeps kissing Tris.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Fair warning, I kinda mock Scientology and 'silent birth', so if it offends you, don't read it. Also, I just want to point out that this is the story of Tris' second pregnancy, so if you're expecting to learn a lot about the baby, you're probably going to be disappointed. When I get around to finishing the Patterns sequel you'll definitely get to learn more about him ;)**

**As always, if you're feeling chatty you can find me on Tumblr at BleuWrites **

* * *

**28 Weeks**

Irresistible impulses. Tris has them. Sometimes the urge to nest is overwhelming and she'll while away the day obsessively laundering swaddling blankets and onesies and tiny pairs of socks. Tobias has them too, but where Tris' are kind of cute and endearing, his are absolutely masochistic.

As he jams the needle into his neck he knows the Hell he's about to endure is completely unnecessary. But it's not logic that keeps bringing him to his fear landscape just emotion, and emotion is rarely logical. If it was he wouldn't be within fifty feet of this place.

He closes his eyes and almost immediately feels the wind at the top of the Hancock building blast into his body, pitching him backwards a few inches before he can brace against it. He wishes he could control the simulations like Tris does and simply imagine her here, to remind him of what's real and what isn't. But he can't, so instead, he runs. This never gets easier and his survival instinct kicks him hard in the gut, causing him to stumble and fall off the building in a heap instead of jumping.

A hundred floors up and the ground surging closer and closer and all he can think is that he didn't get his feet under him and what kind of splatter pattern is that going to make when he finally impacts?

As it turns out, none at all, but he gets the wind knocked out of him falling face first on the floor of the fear landscape room. Before he can do anything more than roll over and try to force some air into his lungs the walls are shrieking closed around him. He curls in on himself, still trying to breathe, but all the does is make the walls squeeze in tighter. He kicks at them even though he knows that's not how he gets out of this fear.

His knees are digging painfully into his chest before he starts trying to calm down, tricking the program into giving him a pass. He thinks of Tris, the one and only time he took her through his fear landscape with him, of her heart fluttering like a bird under his hand. It's the first in a long line of happy memories he cycles through. At first it's difficult, and he's too aware of the shrinking space around him to really focus on them, but it works, eventually.

When the walls burst apart, Tobias tries to remind himself that he's halfway done, but the next two fears make the first two feel like childs play, and they are, he supposes. Still, it's little consolation considering what comes next.

The details are always in flux, but the end result - Tris being dead -, is always the same. He's watched her die in a hundred ways, a hundred times and it never gets any easier. This time, the first thing he's aware of is her grunting and groaning, and even before he turns to face the tableau that his own damaged brain has kicked up he knows exactly what he's going to find.

Tris is in a hospital bed, hair plastered to her skin with sweat and hands gripped so tightly around the rails her knuckles are white as she pushes. Doctor Gonzales is there too, focusing on what's going on under the sheet strung across Tris' legs.

"This baby is never coming out," she whimpers. "They keep saying that he is, but he's not."

Word for word, it's what she said to him what she was in labor with Benjamin. So, he, in turn, repeats the words he said to her at the time. "He's just being stubborn, like his mother," he starts, hoping the happy memory is enough to cancel out the dread he feels and stop the simulation before it progresses any further, but he's never had that kind of luck.

He presses on, desperate, reciting words he's amazed he remembers so exactly five years later. The doctor says something, but they both ignore her. "Stay with me?" Tris asks him, uncertain, just like before.

He wants so badly to promise her 'always', to be by her side right now and forever, but he can't, not this time. He brushes the hair out of her face, rests his forehead against hers and says, "I love you, Tris. So much." He's surprised he can get the words out, and they don't leave of their own free will, fighting and scratching and inflicting their own special pain on the way out. Then he kisses her, soft and lingering, before walking away.

It's not enough to stop the simulation, but he refuses to watch, refuses to let these images into his head to fester and torment and ruin what should be a happy time for him and Tris. He can't block out the sounds though. Every time she cries out for him, he hears it. Every time she strains and screams as she pushes, he hears it.

Tobias feels like he's being pulled apart one piece at a time; her voice eviscerating him, peeling off ribbons of skin and flesh. It leaves him his nerves though, and when her screams turn from sounds of frustration to a primal, guttural pain - to the sound of something mortal snapping, untethering her from her life -, they try desperately to follow after her.

He listens to her die. Every agonizing second of it. He listens to the doctor's panic, and Tris' pain, and, eventually, her voice fainter and fainter calling out to him until it stops altogether. Then the only sounds are the ones he's making. He doesn't try to hold in his grief. There's no one here to witness it besides himself; no one to hide his weakness from.

Tris told him once that these tears and the love that make them are the things that make him human, but if that's the case, it's the last thing he wants to be. In here, he knows, he will get his wish.

Like clockwork, once his breathing and heart-rate approach normal, Benjamin appears. More than once Tobias has wondered about the order the fears are presented in; if one facilitates the next or if things simply build from bad to worse.

There are hand-shaped bruises up the length of Ben's arms and he stands stiffly, as if his clothes are hiding something worse. Tobias knows all about that. "Did you hurt me because you didn't want me?" he asks brokenly.

It's the same question he wanted to ask Marcus every time he felt the sting of a belt against his back or the closet walls slowly closing in and suffocating him.

In the five years that Benjamin has been appearing in his fear landscape, the one thing Tobias has never done is tell him the truth. Tonight, he doesn't have it in him to do anything but that. "No, I didn't," he says, dead-voiced. "I didn't want you and I hated you because your mother loved you more than me."

The bruises don't fade, but as he watches, Benjamin's expression shifts from one of apprehension to one of loathing and disgust and betrayal, and Tobias knows all about that too.

He sits on the floor long after simulation-Benjamin disappears, putting himself back together because life isn't about being fearless, it's about acting in spite of fear.

* * *

**30 Weeks**

"So, what do you want to do this weekend?" Tobias asks as he and Tris eat lunch.

"Clean." She moans like it's the most decadent thing in the world.

"Clean?"

"Yeah. I want to clean the apartment - really clean it - and rearrange Ben's room so we can set up the crib."

"This is nesting, you're nesting, right?" he frowns. He wasn't really around for this part with Ben, but he's seen a little of it this time.

"I'm doing what needs to be done," she scowls, snapping back to the reality of a less-than-enthusiastic Tobias. "We won't have time for any of this with a newborn to look after."

"A newborn who won't be using the crib for months because he'll be in a bassinet in our room," he reminds her.

"It'll give Ben time to get used to the change. And you don't have to help with all of it - I can do the cleaning myself, and you and Ben can just hang out at Zeke's until I'm done."

"No," he says in a tone that brokers no argument.

She's not sure if it's because he doesn't like the reminder that she's done this before - prepared for a baby - without him, or because he's still anxious about her since going through his fear landscape the last time. Probably a bit of both, if she had to guess.

"So what is this cleaning going to entail?"

Tris gives him an apologetic look when she produces a slightly crumpled list from her desk, and as he reads it, he gives her a long suffering one in return.

That look is still on his face when he rolls out of bed saturday morning and they set to work. They give Benjamin simple tasks, and Tobias tries to keep anything that could possibly result in injury or strain for himself, which is how he finds himself wrenching the refrigerator away from the wall so he can vacuum the cooling coils. Because that had to be done.

It's a long day, complete with Ben being five and having a meltdown during which Tris is sorely tempted to respond with, "because I'm the Mom, _that's why_," though she doesn't, and spends another ten minutes patiently explaining why they need to pack up the clothes he doesn't fit in and the toys he doesn't play with to make room for his brother. It does little to remove the disgruntled scowl from his face, but that's exactly why they're doing this now and not latter - so he has time to get used to the changes.

At the end of the day their apartment is clean, and, for the first time Tris feels like she's ready to bring this baby home. While Tobias gives Ben his nightly bath she sits in the rocking chair in the kids room - a smile tilting up her lips at the phrase -, taking it all in. Benjamin's bed is pushed flush against one wall, the crib mirroring it's position against the opposite wall.

There's a new double-wide dresser between them; one side for Ben's things and the other for the baby's. It's framed nicely by two of the trees Tori painted onto the wall before Benjamin was born, and Tris wonders idly if she can be persuaded to paint the boy's names between them. Of course they have still yet to decide on a name for the baby, though they've all taken to calling him 'pumpkin' instead of 'it' or 'him'. That's another worry for another day though.

Benjamin emerges from his bath and sleepily stumbles towards her, pausing only to give her a kiss before collapsing into bed and falling asleep almost immediately. "Your back hurting?" Tobias murmurs as he helps her up.

"I'm almost eight months pregnant, Tobias," she says with a wry smile. "_Everything_ hurts."

Later, after they shower and change and climb into bed, she curls up on her side and traces her fingers down his stubbly cheeks. "It's easier with you here," she murmurs, a little afraid he'll take it the wrong way, but needing to say it all the same. "I loved Ben so much before he was born, but I wanted you here too."

"I'm sorry I wasn't," he says, catching her hand in his and kissing her palm. They're words he's repeated many times, but they're no less true or sincere now than they were then.

"You are now, that's what matters," she reminds him.

* * *

**32 Weeks**

Spring happens as it always does: with gusty winds that do nothing to quell the rising heat, and rain that only makes it muggy and oppressive. Or at least it feels that way to Tris. She knows part of it is the pregnancy - extra weight and extra blood making her run hotter than usual -, but as she walks the few blocks between the Pire and the lower levels school she can't help cursing the sun as it burns harshly against her pale skin and makes sweat trail stickily down her back, adding a few more things to her list of discomforts.

Like the last time she was pregnant she's starting to have days where she's just done. She's sick of the aches and pains that stab at her no matter what she's doing; sick of not being able to sleep because of them. She's sick of not being able to take a sip of water without having to use the toilet too.

And she's _sick_ of the insane food cravings she gets at all hours of the day or night. She woke up at three o'clock in the morning last night and nearly scaled the kitchen counter in her attempt to retrieve a can of black olives since they sounded like the perfect accompaniment to the peppermints she was chewing on. For the record, they were, but the tiny part of her brain not affected by pregnancy hormones knows how disgusting it is even as the rest of it craves more, even now.

The only bright spot is that she hasn't started to waddle yet. Sure, her balance isn't quite the same and her limbs feel loose and rubbery sometimes, but she can still take Benjamin to the park and tromp around after him, however gracelessly. And when they go swimming afterwards she's blissfully weightless, so there's always that to look forward to.

In spite of all that she still makes the effort to meet her son the moment he's released from school every day because after this baby is born, she will have to be a spectator, a mother hen clucking at him from her perch, at least for a little while. She hasn't made peace with that yet, and though Tobias is quick to shush him when it comes up, she knows Ben hasn't either. Mostly, she just doesn't want him to feel slighted and ignored, even though it will be somewhat unavoidable with a baby around, no matter how hard she and Tobias try to prevent it.

And like he does every day, Benjamin bounds down the steps to greet her, ready with a kiss and exciting tales of kindergarten to share. They meet up with Shauna and Zoey as is their custom and the four of them walk to the park; Benjamin and Zoey running ahead, Tris and Shauna bringing up the rear. The latter doesn't wear her mechanical legs all the time - says they're tiring and cumbersome -, but like Tris she makes an effort to do this every day too.

They've grown closer over the years, and after Benjamin was born Shauna was nothing short of a lifesaver, always there to offer advice or just someone to cry and vent to, having been there before. On more than one occasion she and Zeke just showed up and took over Benjamin so Tris and Tobias could catch a few hours of precious sleep, and when you haven't slept in a day and a half because your baby has colic, there's nothing more appreciated.

The newly lush grass feels so good they kick off their shoes, letting the tender blades tickle between their toes as they walk. Ben and Zoey run across the broad expanse at the center of the park to the stand of trees that border it. It's a cross between a jungle-gym and an obstacle course to the two of them. They swing off low hanging branches, race serpentine between the trunks, and once they burn off the initial burst of energy, turn it into a treasure hunting ground, seeing who can find prettiest or most interesting rock or leaf or flower.

Zoey is the one who finds the sparrow feather, but Benjamin is the one who spots the nest it fell from. They circle around and then forward and back, looking for the best vantage point. Ben watches with a quiet reverence, completely enraptured by the hairless, cheeping baby birds. His tone is hushed and excited as he says, "Mom, look! _Look!_," waving her closer and then ordering her not to move too quickly so she doesn't frighten them.

"Guess we know where he's ending up," Shauna chuckles once she and Tris settle themselves in a patch of shade a few feet away.

"It doesn't matter anymore," Tris scowls, ripping up some grass in annoyance. It doesn't, not really, not like it did when they were growing up.

The factions still exist, yes, but now they're more or less groups of people who specialize in a particular field, living and working together. Amity specializes in food and the scientific advancements that will produce more and better of it. Dauntless provides policing and protection, hand-in-hand with the Bureau. Erudite provides doctors and hospital staff, as well as specializing in medical research, though that is strictly monitored. Abnegation are the nameless, faceless cogs of government offices that must exist to keep everything working. Candor provides judges and lawyers to make sure everyone gets treated fairly, as well as providing unbiased information to the public.

The Factionless still exist too, though their circumstances are so changed as to be unrecognizable. They have homes, jobs, and opportunity. They drive buses and trains, collect garbage, maintain roads, and a hundred other thankless jobs that are essential to any city. They have representation on the Council, just like the five factions. But most importantly, their children are educated with all the others in the city, accepted into any faction's initiation process and treated the same as everybody else. When Tobias was on the Council, after the war and the fall of the Bureau, that was the first major change he lobbied hard for in the city, and is still the one he's most proud of.

"No, it doesn't," Shauna says indifferently. "But if we still did the aptitude tests, he'd be Amity. No doubt."

Clearly, it's still hard for some people to let go of the old ways, but it's only been a few years, Tris reminds herself, and old habits are hard to forget. "Well, we don't," she says flatly. "And he's five. There's no telling what he'll do when the time comes.

Mercifully, Shauna changes the subject, catching Tris up on what Matthew and Cara are researching in addition to building her a more perfect set of legs. It's been too long since she's seen them, but it's hard sometimes. They remind her too much of Caleb, and sometimes that's nice, but other times it's just painful, seeing the spark of curiosity and discovery in their eyes and knowing she'll never see Caleb's again now that he's dead.

Something of her thoughts must register on her face because when Zoey bounds over declaring that she's ready to leave, Shauna gently asks Tris if everything is okay. Tris waves her off with an unconvincing, "I'm fine, just tired," but Shauna doesn't pry. Benjamin sits down next to her and rests his head on her shoulder, begging to stay a little longer, so they do.

But she's still thinking about Caleb when Ben makes a comment about the Mommy and Daddy birds taking care of the chicks when she says, "they take care of each other too, the babies."

"You sound like Dad," he frowns.

"I do?"

"Mmhm, he says I will help look after Pumpkin and he'll follow me around and think I'm great because I'm his big brother."

Tris laughs, light and tinkling - her mother's laugh -, but it's rich and true. "That's because he never had a brother."

"Did you?" Ben asks, curiosity piqued.

"I did," Tris says slowly, but for the first time, the words don't hurt on the way out. She tells him a little bit about Caleb, about growing up when they were still close before he did the things she still hasn't quite forgiven him for. When Ben asks where he is now, Tris says he's dead, but leaves it at that because_ those_ words still hurt.

"I did love him though," Tris adds. "Even when he was being annoying, I still loved him even if I didn't like him very much, at the time." Benjamin's brows furrow in confusion because to him loving someone is just like them a whole, whole lot and he doesn't understand what Tris is saying. She laughs again and musses his hair, and says, "you will, someday."

"Do you think Pumpkin'll love me too?" Benjamin asks, laying back in the grass with his arms behind his head, looking uncannily like his father.

Tris lays down too, mirroring his position. "I think so. Maybe he loves you already."

"But I haven't met him yet."

"Yes, but he can hear you, can hear all of us when we're talking. When you were inside me your dad used to read to you, and it made you happy. He always calmed you down, like you were being especially patient and still so you didn't miss a word. When Pumpkin hears you sometimes he gets excited and moves around more, like he wants to play." It's not a truth or a lie, just Tris' particular way of looking at things.

"Sometimes?"

"Well, you don't talk to him that often, do you?"

"Can I talk to him now?" he asks, sitting up and settling himself next to her stomach.

"Sure."

His mouth opens and closes and opens again, his brows furrowing together. "I don't know what to say," he frets.

"Why don't you tell him about the baby birds since he can't see them yet," she suggests.

So he does. At first halting and unsure, but then with excitement when Tris reaches out and fits his hand against her so he can feel Pumpkin's sporadic twists and kicks.

* * *

**36 Weeks**

Tobias' dreams had mostly been nonsense, a surrealist vision from an overactive imagination, but right before he was pulled into consciousness they coalesced into the memory of he and Tris; a field, a sunset, a motorcycle, and a promise.

And beautiful though the memory is, what greets him when he opens his eyes is better. Benjamin is tucked against Tris, warm and safe in her embrace, a hand smoothing over the pronounced swell of her stomach and his face puckered in concentration as he tries to feel the movements of the baby inside her.

"Did you feel that?" Tris murmurs against Benjamin's hair, a little smile tilting up her lips.

"Yeah," Benjamin breathes out, like he's afraid of breaking a spell.

"He's doing somersaults. You used to do that; you used to keep me up all night doing that sometimes," she chuckles.

Benjamin gives her a roguish grin in response, snuggling closer. Tris pulls his hand away from her stomach, pressing a kiss to Benjamin's palm before resting it over her heart. "I think Matthew's going to sleep again."

"Matthew? Really?" The thick layer of sleep in Tobias' voice is not quite enough to cover the incredulity.

Tris flinches a little, surprised because she didn't realize Tobias was awake. She doesn't get a chance to reply before Benjamin is stretching over her clumsily to give him a kiss, excited that his dad is awake, that he doesn't have to be so quiet anymore. "I think we should name him Christopher," Ben announces, settling back against Tris. "But Mom said no."

"He's not a Christopher," Tris says decidedly. "I like Matthew. It feels… right," she adds, tone soft and contemplative.

"Tris-"

"No, I know. It's just… it fits him. In a good way. And if that's his name we shouldn't let her ruin it."

"What about Robin?" Benjamin pipes up, lifting the suddenly heavy mood. Tobias is just happy he's finally given up on having a sibling named Eeyore.

"That's a girls name," Tris teases him, sticking her tongue out at Benjamin when he does the same to her.

"That's okay. He can be a girl. Dad wants a girl anyway," Benjamin says with oblivious honesty.

"Benjamin!" Tobias admonishes.

"What?" He asks, eyes going wide and confused at his father's reprimand. "It's true," he adds, because telling the truth isn't something he's ever gotten in trouble for before now. "Can we still have pancakes?" Benjamin asks after a few minutes tense silence, voice small and contrite.

"Sure, Baby."

"I'm not a baby, Mom," Benjamin grumps. "That's the baby," he says, patting Tris' stomach before squirming to the floor and clasping Tris' hand. He's really too little to help her up, but she plays along, letting him think his tugging is actually doing something.

He goes to follow her to the kitchen, but Tobias calls him back. He crawls back up on the bed and sits, shame-faced and head hanging low even if he doesn't quite understand what he did wrong.

"You shouldn't have said that," Tobias reprimands, but gently.

"But it's the truth!" Benjamin protests; it's the only defense he's got.

"Sometimes the truth isn't the nice thing to say," Tobias says soothingly.

"So I should lie? But you and Mom always say that lying is bad, and I shouldn't do it."

"It is bad, and you shouldn't lie."

"I don't get it," Benjamin huffs, thoroughly confused.

"Well, sometimes when the truth isn't the nice thing to say, you just shouldn't say anything. Okay?"

"'kay," Benjamin mumbles, plucking distractedly at the blue quilt thrown across his parents bed. "Am I in trouble?"

Tobias reaches out, cupping his hand around the back of Ben's neck and pulling him close to plant a kiss between his eyebrows. "No, you're not. I might be," he adds ruefully, "but you're not."

* * *

**38 Weeks**

Amity in the summer is a tapestry of color and scent and texture. Tobias sees none of it. The closer Tris gets to her due date the more they both worry. She deals with it by focusing on work, which is why she's here today. Amity has a new ambassador, and according to Tris it's rude not to meet him in person. This is exactly why Tobias set up the video conference system for her, but what good is it going to do if she's too stubborn to use it?

He knows Amity is safe, that they have the same medical facilities that Dauntless has, but it's just so far from the city and the central hospital and it's specialists and their lifesaving skills and equipment. If Tris' labor goes wrong at the Pire they would be able to transfer her from the infirmary to a real hospital quickly and with ease; two things that are easily the difference between life and death.

And he doesn't like being away from her either, because while he and Ben and the rest of their friends are forging and gathering, she's in a meeting somewhere he can't see her. But being away from the city which is their best chance at survival (because if his fear landscape proves anything it's the he would lost without her) is what really galls him.

There's something else too, though. Something elusive that he can't quite put his finger on, but is making the hair on the back of his neck stand up all the same. As his body follows after Benjamin automatically his mind is miles away. They are moving from the apple orchard to the herb garden when replays getting ready this morning for what feels like the hundredth time.

Tris was standing in front of the bathroom mirror pinning her hair up into a bun when he woke up. She was in a shirt that was probably his at some point but that Christina had cut up to fashionably show off all her tattoos and none of her scars and still cover her pregnant belly. It didn't though; when she raised her arms a sliver of it peeked out the bottom, above the waist of the long jersey skirt that went all the way to her toes.

He stops the memory there, trying to analyze it the same way he does the video feeds from the security cameras. Had her stomach been resting a little lower than normal? _Maybe_, he hedges, but he doesn't quite trust his memory since even fresh ones are malleable in a way film isn't.

And even if it was, that is normal, a side effect of the baby moving into the position it needs to be in for birth. Benjamin 'dropped' a few weeks before Tris went into labor with him, so while it means 'soon' is coming it doesn't mean it's here. The same can be said of the practice contractions she's been having occasionally, and the way Matthew has been less active inside her. Her body and her baby are getting ready, he rationalizes.

She is uncomfortable though, more so than when she was pregnant with Ben, but a lot of things have been worse for her this time around. Either way, halfway here she had started shifting in her seat, aching from sitting in one position for too long, she'd said. As soon as they were parked she clambered out of the car and stretched hugely, her hands extended skyward and back arched until her spine had popped wetly.

Afterwards, as she was fixing Benjamin's hat she was shifting her weight between her hips. When Tobias cocked an eyebrow at her questioningly she had murmured that she_ just needed to walk_.

That is what's bothering him, he thinks. The night she went into labor with Benjamin she had said the same thing; that she was restless and uncomfortable, and it helped to move because it worked out the tension in her hips and thighs. But she's not full-term this time. Thirty-eight weeks and four days might still technically be safe, but technicalities aren't enough for Tobias right now.

"Ben," he calls out sharply, only to see his son's head pop up from behind a bush with velvety leaves shot through with different shades of green. A minute later Benjamin bounds over, sliding to a stop on the gravel path they're standing in. "We're going home after lunch."

"But-," he starts to whine.

"No but's," Tobias cuts him off. He could probably ask Shauna and Zeke to take him home at the end of the day, but he wants his family together, end of discussion.

By the time they break for lunch their plastic crate is packed full of fresh fruits and vegetables and herbs, and Tobias is actually starting to relax a little, the knowledge that they'll be leaving soon lightening him. That lasts exactly as long as it takes for Tobias to find some Amity man waiting for them in the clearing their group of friends always eats in, and not Tris.

He feels his heart stutter to a stop as the man pushes himself away from the tree he was leaning against. "Tobias?"

Benjamin wraps his arms around Tobias' waist, pressing into his side the way he does when he's nervous. "Where's Tris?" Tobias asks, the words coming out a croak.

"She's fine," he says, hands up placatingly. "Her water broke so she's in our infirmary. She asked me to find you, but I figured it was best to wait for you here."

If he says anything else, Tobias doesn't hear him. He picks up his son, turns on his heel, and starts walking as fast as he can. If Benjamin wasn't here he'd be running, but he doesn't want to scare him unnecessarily.

He expects to find Tris in a hospital bed, hooked up an IV and machines that track her vital signs, just like she would be if they were at the Pire. She's not. She's lazing in a bathtub built into one corner of the room, a yellow tunic covering her. It's such an incongruous image that Tobias stops dead in his tracks.

"There you are," she sighs happily, her head lolling against the rim of the tub.

Benjamin seems to recover first, squirming his way out of his father's hold and settling himself at the edge of the tub. "You're having the baby?"

"Mmhmm," Tris hums. "He's impatient."

"In the bathtub?" he asks, his face quirking up.

"They said I can, if I want. Do you think he'll be a fish like you if I do?" she asks in reply, poking at him playfully.

"You're being silly, Mom," Ben smiles as he twists away from her tickling fingers.

That snaps Tobias back to reality, all the pieces fitting together. "Are you out of your fucking mind? You gave her Peace Serum?" he almost screams at the woman hovering unobtrusively in the background that he hadn't noticed before.

"I told you he wasn't very nice," Tris giggles. "Don't yell, Tobias. They said the baby doesn't like that," but she's not looking at him, she's still trying to tickle Ben.

"Right you are, Tris," the woman says sweetly.

There's nothing sweet about the look she gives Tobias though, and definitely nothing sweet about the vice-like grip she catches his arm in and drags him out the door with.

"Now, _you_. You need to calm down," she says crisply, all business now that they're out in the corridor. "If not for the wellbeing of your partner than for the wellbeing of your children. The reactive mind records all perceptions during times of pain and stress, and being born definitely falls into that category. You will be quiet, not planting the seeds of fear and insecurity and illness by shouting like a lunatic. If you cannot maintain a quiet, calm, loving environment in the birthing room we can give you a dose of Peace Serum to help, or you will not be allowed in there; those are your options."

"Excuse me?" There's a fine line between bravery and idiocy, and right now this woman is walking on the wrong side of it.

"What is going on here?" Johanna's voice cuts in before he can say anything else.

"This… _woman_, gave Tris peace serum. The last time you idiots did that she was stoned for hours and had no memory of what she did. Is she even going to remember the birth of her son?" Tobias spits out, furious.

"There's no need to be insulting, Tobias," Johanna reprimands. "Emilia is our most experienced midwife; I'm sure the dose she gave Tris was both necessary and in moderation."

"Tobias," Tris calls out, her voice sing-songing through the door.

"Really?" he asks Johanna. "I'm taking her home," he says flatly, making for the door.

"I'm afraid that's out of the question," Emilia says, blocking him. "She is too far dilated and I cannot, in good conscience, let you move her."

He rounds on Johanna, desperate and angry and pleading. "She can't have this baby here, Johanna," he says urgently. "If something goes wrong… we need to be back in the city. She's not full-term yet."

"She's thirty-eight weeks," Emilia says dismissively. "It's not like she having a premie. Her pregnancy has been healthy and her vital signs are good."

"Shut. Up," Tobias says through gritted teeth, rounding on women before he turns back to Johanna who's watching him with concern. They've never talked about it, but he knows she knows about Evelyn, knows that's what she's thinking about right now. "Tris is my family, I can't lose her," is all he says.

"Tobias," Johanna says gently, laying a soothing hand on his arm. "I know this isn't what you and Tris wanted, but it seems like this is going to happen, and it's going to happen here. Whatever birth-plan you and Tris have we will do our best to accommodate it, all we ask is that you remain respectful."

"I want a doctor, a real one, can you accommodate that?" he asks petulantly.

"Actually, yes," Johanna smiles. "Emilia would you please get Doctor Peterson for us?"

"What happens when… things go badly?" he asks as they wait, his fears from before coming back full force.

"We're well prepared, being as far away from the city as we are," Johanna assures him.

A few minutes later the midwife returns with a woman clad in pale yellow scrubs, her hair pulled into a tight braid. She offers Tobias a friendly smile and a hand to shake, but he wants none of those pleasantries. "Have you delivered a baby before?" he asks, cutting to the chase.

"Many, while I worked at the city hospital, though that's not all I do here."

They go back and forth for a few minutes, Tobias asking her questions like he's got a choice when it comes to who is going to deliver this baby, and Doctor Peterson patiently answering him.

"Tobias," Tris calls out again, a little impatiently.

"Can I meet my patient now?" she asks, nodding towards the door.

Tobias sighs and pushes himself away from the wall. He tries to leave his fears and doubts in the hallway. She goes through the same questions Doctor Gonazels would have asked if he and Tris were at Dauntless infirmary and the familiarity of it helps calm him down.

When Dr. Peterson announces that she's going to do a physical exam and pointedly looks at Ben, Tobias takes the hint and takes him outside. He's surprised to find Zeke sitting there.

"How are you holding up?" he asks Tobias, pulling him into a manly kind of hug, completely with back-slapping machismo.

"Been better."

"So we're having a sleepover at Amity?," he jokes. "I missed out on that during the war. They still spiking the bread?"

"No."

"That's a damn shame."

"You don't have to stay-," Tobias starts, but Zeke waves him off.

"I'm not going anywhere. You though, little man, Shauna and Zoey are waiting for you."

At this Benjamin wraps his arms around one of his father's legs and shakes his head violently. Tobias gently disentangles him, crouching down to his level. "You don't want to be here for this. It's scary."

"I won't be scared. I promise."

"I know you don't like this answer, Ben, but you're too little to understand. It's really scary. Like, so scary it scares me."

"I don't want to go," he says, tears already gathering in the corners of his eyes. "Please don't make me go."

"Tris is right, that kid is just like you."

"Shut up, Zeke," he snaps over his shoulder.

"Are you scared right now, Ben?"

He looks down at his feet, but holds one hand up, thumb and forefinger close together. It's his sign, meaning 'a little bit'.

"What are you scared of?"

"I dunno... Mom says you're scared. She says that's why you were so angry. And you keep saying it's scary."

_Well, fuck._

"Just let him stay. He can keep me company out here once things really get rolling," Zeke says.

"Okay. But Ben, you have to mind your uncle."

He nods, wiping at his eyes.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Everything looks good," the doctor announces, stepping out to join them. "I know you're concerned about her not being full-term, but her pregnancy has been healthy, her vital signs are perfect, and she went into labor naturally. I really think this baby is just ready to be born."

"How soon is she going to have to start pushing?"

The doctor shrugs. "An hour maybe; it's not an exact science. My guess is she's been laboring since early this morning and mistook her contractions for practice ones, or cramps since they were intermittent and not very strong. I'm going to give her an epidural since the peace serum is wearing off and she's starting to feel the pain, but she keeps asking for you and your son, so I think you better get in there."

This time when Tobias enters the room he finds what he expected to the first time: Tris in bed, hooked up to a bunch of machines. The midwife is still there, and it's a little bit of revenge when Tobias invites Zeke in to say hello to Tris; with him around this birth is going to be anything but silent.

And, at first, Tris is the perfect audience for him, being relatively captive and still a little punch-drunk from the serum. He has her howling with laughter between contractions, and even Tobias has to admit it's a good distraction. At one point she even reaches over and fits Ben's hand against her stomach so he can feel her muscles working as her body moves the baby around inside of her.

"Does it hurt?" he asks tremulously.

"Yeah, but it's okay. It hurt having you, but you're worth it."

Tobias almost breaks down in tears right there. Instead, Zeke breaks out the story of how Tobias was so nervous Zeke had to get him a little drunk while Tris was in labor before, and quickly has them all laughing again.

It doesn't last long since, as the doctor predicted, the peace serum is wearing off, and it feels like too soon Tris is gritting her teeth and squeezing Tobias' hand to get through her contractions, very obviously in pain. "I want more drugs," she groans after a bad one, her skin stippling with sweat.

"You have to remember to breath through the pain, honey," the midwife says, bustling up to the side of the bed.

The look Tris gives her makes it abundantly clear she's thinking about strangling the woman for the suggestion, and leaves no doubt in Tobias' mind why, exactly, she was given Peace Serum in the first place.

"I think you're scaring the natives, Tris," Zeke chortles once the woman backs off again.

"Yeah, well she's not the one pushing a watermelon out, so forgive me for not caring."

The doctor and more drugs appear with surprising speed after that. Tobias helps roll her onto her side so they can inject the epidural into her spine and Tris takes the opportunity to nuzzle with her son, capitalizing on the few minutes lull between contractions. "You're being very brave, Ben," she murmurs soothingly. "And I'm going to make some very scary noises pretty soon, but you know what?"

"What?" He asks, pensive, his little fingers stroking her face.

"I'm not scared. It's like when you stub your toe on the coffee table. You cry because it hurts, not because you're scared, right?"

"Mmhmm."

"Well, I'm going to cry and probably yell some not-very-nice things at you dad, but it's only because it hurts. This is something that me and Dad have to do though; just us."

"No," he whines.

"Yes," Tris says in a gentle tone that still, somehow, leaves no room for argument. "You and Uncle Zeke are going to keep each other company, and pretty soon you'll get to meet your brother. But I need you to keep being brave, okay?"

"Okay," he sniffles.

"Thank you, baby," Tris says, peppering his face with kisses before releasing him and letting Tobias say his temporary goodbye as another contraction rolls though her. Zeke carries Benjamin out, and it feels like Tobias' heart is being tugged in two because both Tris and Ben need him right now, and he can only be in one place. Still, there's no question, Tris needs him more.

A half an hour later, Tris is in a different sort of pain, the contractions coming much more quickly and the pressure almost unbearable despite the epidural. When Tris declares that she needs to push the midwife rushes forward, enthusiastic, telling her to, "listen to your body and only push when you feel like it."

Tris cuts her a withering glare and hauls Tobias up out of his chair so he's sitting on the edge of the bed, an arm around her shoulders and his free hand clutching hers. "Do you remember telling me… to be brave," she pants.

"Of course."

"I'm going to be really… disappointed… if I wasn't the only… girl you said that too," she grunts, bearing down again.

"Just you," Tobias says, letting her crush his hand.

"Good," she says, hitting a lull and sinking back against him. "Now it's your turn to be brave."

They don't talk much after that, but they don't need to either. During her contractions Tris curls forward to push, grunts and groans and gasps clawing up her throat. She clutches at Tobias' hand like it's a lifeline. She's not screaming though, and Tobias doesn't know if that's because she knows Ben is in the corridor, or because she isn't in as much pain as she was giving birth to him. When the contractions pass she sags back against Tobias heavily, letting him wipe away the sweat and tears collecting on her face, content to catch her breath in the cradle of his arms.

It's feels like a small eternity before the doctor announces that she can see the baby's head. "Don't try to force it," she reminds Tris, though it's not obnoxiously full of fake enthusiasm like it would be from the midwife's mouth. "If you need to take a few contractions to get to his shoulders, then that's what we'll do."

Tris grits her teeth and curls forward again, nodding when she's ready. She gasps abruptly, her face screwing up in concentration and pain. She screams then, but not the kind of scream simulation-Tris made in his fear landscape; not one that says she's dying, but something closer to triumph. Tobias' breath catches in his throat as she strains, his body pitching forward with hers, and the doctor chanting _good good good_ and then there's another little cry, thin and wet, joining in.

Tris stays sitting up, gives one more good push, and then they get their first look at their son, pink and sticky and squalling and perfect.

* * *

**40 Weeks**

Matthew Caleb Eaton has his father's eyes and his mother's hair, and despite his early, eventful birth is perfectly healthy. He prefers to watch the world in wide-eyed wonder from his mother's arms, but he gurgles happily when he has 'tummy time' on his father's back, fascinated by the bold black lines that cover it. He's not quite sure what to make of his brother, but they spend a lot of time just staring at each other; each trying to figure the other out.

It's still dark when he stirs awake, the little gnawing ache in his belly making him cry out in discomfort; being hungry is still a strange sensation. Like always, there are gentle hands reaching out for him though - one small and soft, the other bigger and calloused -, and something invitingly warm to latch onto. But as he eats his fill, it's not the food that's making him feel full and happy and loved.


End file.
